


With Or Without You

by MyChemicalEnd



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: (Extremely brief), Arguing, Brief mentions of suicidal feelings, Comfort, Dysfunctional Relationships, Even more hurt, Hurt, M/M, Suicide, mentions of domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1915224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChemicalEnd/pseuds/MyChemicalEnd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Patrick knew they were too blind to see all the flaws they had together, but once they looked back, the only thing that blinded them was love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Or Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, a song-fic type-thingy based on U2's 'With Or Without You'
> 
> For trigger warnings, see tags.  
> (Suicide is mentioned graphically)

Another smashed plate; another smashed dream; another tumble back to reality.

Another text; another apology; another ‘I miss you, please don’t leave me.’

It was just another night, nothing new; nothing unusual. Not for Pete and Patrick, anyway. Maybe for any other relationship, but not this one. Every fight ended exactly the same; an apartment that looked like a hurricane had swept through it, two broken hearts (more shattered now, but the pieces were getting too small to bother picking up), one text from whoever decided to sleep in the car saying ‘I hate this’, and the other replying with ‘I miss you, don’t leave me, please.’

They knew it wasn’t healthy. Anyone else would have called it quits and realised that the relationship was damaged beyond repair; that they were no longer compatible. Not Pete and Patrick. No matter how many times they yelled at, kicked, screamed at, or even slapped each other, they were in love.

Head over heels, and both too blinded by it to see that love was the thing choking them; suffocating them. Pete had cheated once, just to get back at Patrick; to show he was quite capable of just getting up and going to someone else, but he’d broken down and confessed, begging Patrick to forgive him.

Patrick would always forgive him, and Pete would never take it for granted. Pete would never stay mad at Patrick for too long, always pretend that Patrick didn’t do a thing and that it was all him, and Patrick would play along because he didn’t want them to say it; didn’t want for them to voice the realisation that they couldn’t work anymore. That there was no longer a bond; no more peteandpatrick. Nowadays, they were completely separable. Pete could stay with Brendon or Gabe, or anyone of his friend for days or even a couple of weeks without calling Patrick.

They knew, or thought they knew, that they still loved each other. That they didn’t have to say it at every opportunity. Some days they’d carry on as if they were still in their teens, with the world as their oyster and no cares as to how the future would treat them. Others, it was rare for a single word to be spoken between them.

The silence was suffocating, but more so was the underlying truth that no matter how golden their lives seemed, it would come crashing down soon enough. They knew they couldn’t live like this forever; it was only a matter of time.

Some days Pete wanted out of it all; out of the apartment, his job, his relationship, or even his existence. Yet, every time, Patrick would sit with him, let him cry into his shirt, sobbing out ‘I can’t do it, ‘Trick!’ and then let him fall asleep with Patrick’s arms holding him tight.

Every time they fought, every time Patrick yelled across the living area that he wished that Pete would ‘just go and finish it already’, he remembered those times; remembered the look on Pete’s face when he told Patrick that he wished he was dead.

Yet, every time they fought, Patrick would say it, to watch Pete’s reaction. Pete had slapped him once, punched him more times than he cared to remember, and each one was always accompanied by the same ‘fuck you’, hissed through gritted teeth and followed by a slamming door.

Patrick always knew that it was a low blow, and always regretted saying it. Pete always slept in the car after that, as if it was a script of a play run too many times.

Pete hated how he still ran back to Patrick every time, but he knew it was the only thing that kept him going.

They knew one day it would end, one day either Pete or Patrick would overstep the line (where that line was, neither of them knew, but there’s always a limit), and one day, everything would stop in its tracks.

*****

Patrick hardly saw it coming so soon. He’d been out of order this time, he knew it. He’d growled the same six words at Pete as usual, but unusually on Pete’s part, he didn’t hit, or kick or say a single word back. He just flashed a sad smile, walked down the corridor and let the door click shut behind him. Patrick had marched out to the car, grabbing the blanket they kept over the couch for this purpose.

He’d gone back in the next morning to get ready for work. He’d noticed, whilst passing, that the bedroom door was still closed, that Pete’s shoes were exactly where he’d left them last night. He didn’t notice the post-it note stuck to the cupboard (where Pete knew that Patrick would see it, as he always had a mug of tea in a morning).

But Patrick couldn’t fail to miss Pete lying on the bed when he opened the door. The touch of his skin was such a contrast to the tears falling from Patrick’s eyes, but he couldn’t make a sound. Shocked into grief, he looked at their room; at the broken picture frames; the torn posters; the smashed CDs and everything else.

The fights didn’t matter now, nothing did. As Patrick tightened the belt around his neck, he didn’t think about anything. Just the realisation of how far love got them; nowhere and yet, it was all they’d ever known.

As the loud thud of a chair hitting the floor echoed around the apartment, the note fluttered to the tiles, and upon it, in Pete’s scribble read; ‘I can’t live with or without you’.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really proud of this one, but I'd love your feedback on it (as usual!)  
> Thanks for reading,  
> xoMCE


End file.
